Vimak The Stonerager
by thelastofhiskindcenturion
Summary: Original Content, not fanfic. Using D&D books. Ongoing chronicling of my D&D game from my character's perspective. Main character is Vimak, a goliath who has recently lost his village to the son of a demon. Said demon is attempting to ascend and we have to stop him.


In an age gone by, there was one of the People. A man of the stoneskinned people, one who walked the great peaks with ease. Aukan was the leader of his tribe, and he was a great warrior. By the time he became a man he had already slew half a dozen dire wolves, and the claws of a dire bear adorned his trophies. It is said that he once wrestled a fire wyrm to a standstill for his test of manhood. Though he never slew the beast, it fled him and never bothered his people. He was a great chief.

In these days, we were a young people without wisdom. We travelled far and wide and were feared by the small folk. For the crime of being bigger we were often attacked. Though we were mighty, we could not stand before their numbers, so our people withdrew to the mountains. Aukan's tribe was lost and tired, but he refused to admit defeat at the hands of the small folk. It was here that Aukan led his people, and here that he met the Spirit Wolf known now as Malar.

It was on a night like any other, and Aukan was standing guard over his people when a wolf emerged from the shadows. It was larger than even the dire wolves whose pelts now adorned his shoulders. It was large enough to stare him in the eye, which most of his people could not even do. Aukan bore his ax, ready to defend himself if the beast should mistake him for prey. Then he locked eyes with the wolf. He reeled back, shocked to see in those eyes an intelligence and age that defied all reason. He looked around to see another wolf of the same size lurking at the tree line, and many smaller wolves circling. He would never be able to win this fight. But Aukan was one of the people. He was a warrior and he would protect his tribe. He yelled in defiance, and charged the wolf.

It was faster than anything he had ever seen, darting away from his strikes more easily than he did his son's. While they fought, the other wolves circled him but did not approach. They seemed more interested in seeing how the fight went than interfering, perhaps knowing that Aukan could not hope to win. Soon the wolf began to leap in to snap at Aukan, but found a blade waiting for him.

So the fight continued until the morning. The dawn found them tired and bleeding from a hundred different wounds. Exhausted, Aukan fell to the ground, about to die defending his people. As the great wolf staggered towards him, fangs bared, the other great wolf approached. Aukan knew in his heart that this was his final moment. His hand went to his ax as he lay on the ground, waiting for one final strike before he died. It would need to be on the other great wolf as she came to claim his throat. If he could maim her, then perhaps his people would survive.

He kept his eyes trained on her as she approached. To his astonishment, her form wavered as she left the shadows and entered the light. A woman stood there, fair of skin and wrapped in wolf pelts.

"Malar! Enough! Can you not see the night has ended, and the hunt passed? This man is no prey. He is a hunter, and one does not destroy one's kin."

The male wolf froze and looked at the sky, as if seeing the light for the first time. His blood fury passed, and he stood upon his back legs, transforming as he went. Again, there stood a man where a wolf had once stood. Aukan could not believe his eyes, he must surely have already passed into the spirit world because what he was seeing was impossible.

"Eldath, why do you stop me? If he is weak enough to be beaten, he is no hunter. He is prey."

"Look at yourself, could prey do that to a god? I have seen you hunt on planes more dangerous than this and receive no scratch, yet this mortal was able to wound you to weakness. If I were one of your wolves, I would take your throat myself. Yet I am not." She took a pouch from her side, and poured water upon his wounds. The clear liquid washed away both the dirt and the injuries alike.

Aukan flinched as she approached him, afraid of the skinwalkers before him.

"Easy now, my child. This will ease your hurts."

And indeed it did. The water was cool upon his skin and he felt his strength returning. He sat up, rubbing his arm where one particularly bad wound had all but maimed him. It was gone.

"There, is that not better? Who are you, mortal, that you could wound my mate?"

Aukan froze, his tongue like lead. His ax shifted in his hand, if he swung now he would have the advantage. "My name is Aukan, chief of the People. Who are you, that you may walk in the body of a beast and cause wounds to be as if they never were?"

The male-Malar- approached him, eyeing him with a look of reluctant nod of approval. "I am Malar, leader of The Hunt. This is my mate, Eldath. She is the mother of life and moon of my eyes. Well met young hunter. She is right when she says that few may lay a hand on me. Normally my punishment for that crime would be death, but it seems that she has granted you life. Thus it seems I must offer you a place in my pack."

He gestured around him and Aukan saw that the smaller wolves were now men and women of all shapes, sizes, and races.

"Join my pack, and add your strength to our own. A warrior as yourself would be a benefit to the eternal hunt."

Aukan stood, stealing a glance towards where his people rested. "I cannot leave my people unprotected. I must stay with them and lead them."

Malar looked furious at the rejection. "Do you know what kind of offer this is, mortal?! I am offering you eternal life. I am offering you battles through the eons. I am offering strength that even your arms cannot fathom. I am offering eternity!" With that last word, the sky darkened and thunder cracked.

"And you offer my people death. For they will surely perish without me."

Eldath placed a hand on Malar's shoulder and the tension went out of him. "Peace upon you, my mate." She looked at Aukan. "He is only angry because he has never had one tell him no before, and he knows no other way to repay you."

Aukan looked agast. "Repay me? For what? I have wounded him, and spent the night trying to kill him!"

"Exactly. He lives for the hunt and too often his prey brings him no thrill. You have resisted him this night, and now he wants to repay that favor. Yet you refuse him."

"I must protect my people. Even unto death."

She smiled at that, eyes sparkling. "Even unto death, eh? Then I know how you may be blessed."  
She leaned down to the ground and began to shape it beneath her hands. When she was finished, a dozen small shapes lay there. She put her hand to her mouth and a wind leapt from her lips to the shapes.

Twelve pups shook the dust from their pelts, looking up at him expectantly.

"From this day forward, your people will forever be a part of the hunt. But they will do so in a second skin, for upon their death, if they be worthy, they will be reborn in the lineage of these you see before you. Even unto death will you protect your people."

Malar looked on, approving. "That is indeed a great gift, moon of my eyes. But it is not complete. For this stoneskin is a mightier warrior than I have ever seen. In time he may join the pack. So I make this promise to him. I will watch over your people for all of time. They will be my pack so long as there is a hunter in it worthy of bearing the honor."

With that, he spun and ran, shifting once more to four legs. His pack followed, howling.

Eldath looked at him one final time, "With that promise he binds us both. Honor us well, and you will always have our protection and blessings."  
She turned away, but looked over her shoulder one final time, smiling. "It has been too long since I had pups to look after." Her smile looked wild and feral in that moment, and then she was off after the rest of them.

Thus was the tribe truly born, and joined with our brothers the wolves.

It is said that one day a great foe will rise and deal the pack a great blow. In that day the wolves will run once more, and will hunt like never before.

Vimak grinned, holding his daughter in his hands. She was so young and small, but fierce as any wolf pup. That was her favorite story, and she demanded to hear it at least three times a week. She was sleeping soundly now, having drifted off to the familiar tale. He lifted her easily and carried her over to her pallet of furs. She would surely be the chief when she grew old enough to bring challenge.

He looked over the camp, and felt a stirring in his chest. These were his people. Soon he would bring forth a challenge himself, though he doubted any would oppose him. He was a head taller than any other, and had always had the thickest skin and was unstoppable when the bloodlust hit him. More than that, he was respected in the tribe. He was a great hunter and brought much meat and more to the People. He had defeated enemies, and made allies out of more. They were prosperous and more pups in their litters than ever before. Most knew that was his doing. He was well loved among his people, and was often chosen to escort a man out when they decided that it was their time. It was a great honor to be chosen to participate in the ritual, and he had done it four times. Some men never did it once. And these men and women were not his bloodkin, he had none living except his daughter. They were merely his people, and wanted him near in their last moments.

This had long been his home, though this camp was merely their winter one. They usually moved a lot more in order to give their four legged brothers exercise and more hunting ground. These mountains were as much a part of him as were the tattoos upon his skin or the ax upon his back. They had been there to see him go on his first hunt with the pack, and then witnessed his bloodrage awaken when a bear had taken his favorite pup. The trees were full of the winged people, and both had seen him grow from a boy unto a man.

These stones were once soaked in the blood of the high flyers and the stoneskinned, but when he entered the battlefield, that all changed. He had begged to be allowed to fight as a child, but even his people would not allow a youngling to enter a true battle. So the flyers were wholly unprepared for the battle after his test of manhood. That battle had won him much honor and glory in the eyes of his people. He had convinced the other tribes to band together and fight as one. He had led the pack, charging in with a battlecry that shook the heavens and sent half the winged ones back to their roosts. Those that were left broke easily, and soon he was faced with the Prince of the flyers. They call themselves a nation and us invaders. This is not true, or else they would have stronger fighters. Vimak had defeated the Prince in single combat, though it was not easy, he had to admit. The Prince was not as weak as his fighting men. Vimak's people had been calling for blood, and a single stroke of his ax would have appeased them all and won the battle then and there. Instead, he won the war by granting the Prince mercy. Since that day, their peoples had been at peace. There was even some trading going on in pre-esta

blished locations of meeting.

Vimak walked over to the kennels. These were the warriors of our past. The fallen heroes who joined Aunak in protecting their people even unto death. He tossed a piece of meat down to the puppies. Only the youngest pups were kept here, the rest were allowed to roam the village as they had in their first skins. The pups were only kept here until they were old enough and their spirits awoke. Until then, they must be protected. Everyone does their share for the tribe, everyone does their part. Though younglings got more grace than did the others of his people. He had made sure that his daughter knew their law. The pack is only as strong as its weakest member, and it is your duty to ensure the strength of the pack. He had led by example, causing many men to work harder to try and keep up.

At that, he knew that he had to stop dawdling. The tribe needed meat, and he was overdue for a hunting trip. He'd be back before dawn broke, he was sure. He'd give the heart of the kill to the newest litter, and wake his daughter up with a crushing hug.

He was right about one thing, at least. The deer in this area were plentiful and easy to find, it was why they wintered here. The new litters would need meat, and a lot of it. His furred brothers could find their own food, but it was the job of the stoneskinned to care for the young. He threw the young buck over his shoulders as if it weighed nothing, and started back to the camp. If he hurried, he might be able to get some of his wife's porridge. She always had a way of making it that no one else could match. He tried to keep an even pace, but found his steps just shy of running.

When he was a couple miles out, he saw smoke rising in the distance. That's strange, he shouldn't be able to see the cook fires for another mile or so. What could they be doing to make so much? There was no feast prepared, or else he would have brought back more from his hunt. Suddenly worried, Vimak broke into a dead run. In no time at all, he made it to the outer sentry position. There was no one there. Doubling his pace, he arrived at the camp moments later.

He dropped the deer in disbelief. The tents were smoldering still, and the air was foul. He fell to his knees and stared. Stared at the spikes that held the heads of his tribesmen, at the bodies strewn everywhere, headless and defiled. Blood was pooled around them, darkening the snow and his heart. He let out a cry and a curse that echoed off the mountains to the heavens, and wept. He never knew that pain could feel so intense that he feared he may have finally been overcome at last.

Swearing vengeance upon whoever did this, Vikam proceeded with the burial rites of his people. He lay a wolf hide upon every fallen, wishing them good hunting in the next life. He searched for his wife and daughter, and his heart broke even more upon finding his mate. He nearly could not complete the rites, but he would not shame her. He searched for his daughter, but all that he could find was her bloody clothes among the bodies. With so many children torn apart, he had no doubt she had perished, but what had happened to her? Was her body present, in so many pieces he could not reconstruct it? Had they taken it for some fiendish purpose? He would know soon enough.

Strapping his ax to his back, and taking all the supplies not ruined, he headed for the valley. To face the small folk who had done this. They would pay for his people, and he would join in the eternal hunt.

He suppressed the bloodrage as he travelled, though it raged through him with a hungry intensity. It was alive, and yearned for battle. It called for vengeance and the death of those who had hurt him. Consumed with grief and anger, he felt no weariness as he nearly ran down the mountain to the closest village. The makeshift drag-along held together well, but he hardly even looked back to notice it. It weighed nothing compared to a world without his family.

Soon he was there, only to be faced with the impossible.

His eyes settled upon a giant wolf in the middle of the road. He took a half step forward, one of his brothers had made it! But upon its back was a man. One of the small folk, upon one of his brothers! He did not know how the small man had bent the hunter's will, but soon his brother would be free and his people avenged. He could feel his battlerage building, begging to be released.

"You will pay for your crimes! Against me, against this village, and against my people!"

The short, bearded man looked at him in puzzlement. "My crimes? Is this why you have slaughtered this village?"

Vimak's step stuttered. A moment ago he was ready to kill this man with no more evidence than his own grief and fury. Looking around, however, he saw a mirror of his own village. This village had been slaughtered as his. Heads were on spikes, and blood ran in the streets. How was this possible? They had been the betrayers! They had been the murderers!

Vicious laughter broke out to the side, ringing loud and clear across to Vimak and the bearded man. The sound was wrong somehow and made his head hurt, like it didn't belong in this world. His head jerked around to see a demon standing on the roof of a nearby hut. It was all black with horns protruding from its forehead, and red patterns dancing across its skin. A forked tongue flicked across its pointed teeth and it grinned. With a flick of its wrist, a small horde of two legged reptiles burst out of the hut. They paused only when their master spoke.

"Oh, look. What do we have here? One of the goliaths, and a village straggler. I do so hate leaving a job half finished. Boys, finish them."

The reptiles rushed forward with the mindless ferocity of a pack. Vimak knew pack mentality, however, and he knew how to scatter them. He pulled one of the small axes from his belt and threw it directly at the demon-man. His aim was true, and it struck the think straight between the eyes. A cold chill overcame Vimak as the demon reached up slowly, grasped the ax, and pulled the blade from his head without so much as a flinch. No blood flowed, and the gash in its head rippled as it flowed back together.

Unable to hold back the rage any longer, Vimak charged at the hut, leaping over the pack of reptiles to grasp at the roof. It was no easy task, despite how low the small folk made their homes. He pulled himself up, only to see the demon-man jump to another roof as easily as taking a step. The thing actually turned back and grinned at him before disappearing.

Enraged, he threw himself off the roof onto the creatures below. He swung his battleax and cleaved them into pieces. That monster was the thing that killed his wife! It slaughtered his people! It tore his daughter to pieces! Before long there were no more foes to slaughter, and he found himself face to face with the bearded man. The man was breathing hard, bloodied sword in hand. The dire wolf padded over, sniffing at both the warriors and the fallen foes. Upon its back was… a child? A small girl, no older than his own Nalla had been.

The bearded man spoke a command to the no-spirit, and the girl slid off its back as it launched forward to feast on the corpses.

"You should not allow the beast to eat those, it is not good for it." Even if it was not a second lived brother, he still thought it should be cared for correctly.

"She does what she wants, I will not stop her. Now, Rosie, come here."

The young girl approached him. She was small, with a bluish tint to her skin and wild, flowing hair. As she walked, her footsteps left small damp patches on the earth. The bearded man knelt down as she went over to him.

"Where did you learn those words? I'm glad you helped out, but you are not to say those words. They are bad."

"From you Da! Didn't I do good?" She looked crestfallen as she motioned toward a couple of the corpses. Strangely enough, they had no marks upon them. They lay there, but clearly were not slain by the small man or himself. The man looked at them, clearly suppressing a smile and trying to hide the pride he felt for the small girl.

"Yes. I suppose you did. But! Those words are naughty, and you are not to use any of them- dwarvish or not."

There was a sound of movement that put Vimak on guard again immediately. He walked towards it, kicking a barrel out of the way. Behind it he saw an old woman. She was old and frail. Disgust rose in his throat. No wonder they were slaughtered so easily, they had to worry about the infirm and the weak. These people were not hunters, they allowed themselves to become burdens. Vimak turned away, repulsed by this alien people. The dwarf saw her and rushed over and began caring for her. The respect Vimak had felt for the man melted away. The dwarf may be a good fighter, but he did not know how to create strength in his people. He would raise the child to be weak and a burden, as the old woman was. Vimak could hear them speaking.

"-thought he was dead. Blackthorne, the great devil. He came at twilight and struck me down first. Then he killed everyone! I'm the one the druids sent here to protect this village, and I have done so for a hundred years." A hundred years? How old was this old crone?

Vimak burst in, "Where is he? My clan demands justice. Their blood cries for vengeance and I will have no rest until I have sated them."

"That is knowledge that I do not have, young wolf. Perhaps the archmage of the white tower would, but a humble woods witch as myself is not privy to that. If you seek the fallen one or his git, ask the one who gathers knowledge as a dragon gathers gold."

Vimak turned on his heel and began to walk, anxious to leave.

The dwarf called after him, "Stop! We must care for her!"

"Let her die. She has no place anymore. Her time came years ago, and she shames herself by not having realized it."

Vines sprouted from the ground, wrapping around his legs and forcing him into a standstill. He looked around aghast and settled his gaze on the druid, who had raised her hand and spoken a series of words in a language he did not recognize.

"I am not so helpless as you think, hunter. Your people honor the strong, and yet you are as children. You see only the strength in arms. There is more strength in my old bones than you know."

He looked at her with a mixture of surprise, anger, and respect. These small folk were a strange folk indeed. He took his handaxe and cut himself free and waited impatiently for the others. It seemed that he would be gaining some traveling companions. That was alright, a lone wolf dies quickly, but a pack could survive and even thrive. Perhaps these new people ones would be able to help him accomplish his mission.


End file.
